In All Humanity
by PikaCheeka
Summary: This is a short, demented, violent ditty about the human race's greatest faults: Arrogance, prejudice, and savageness. The main character is, of course, Lucius, but only because he symbolizes all three.He's killing people, but this time, he may very well


Summary: This is mainly about three of the human race's greatest faults. Prejudice, arrogance, and savageness. The main character is Lucius, but only because he symbolizes all three of those. If you hate him, just replace his name with Lupin or Snape or Black or whatever...I just didn't think any of them were particularly prejudice, arrogant, and savage all at once.

Yes, I know Draco is wand-shopping and I know many of you are going to be wondering why. Well, if you keep reading, I do have an explanation.

A/N----This is a fic I have attempted several times before and thrown it out in fury, so I do not know if this will last the test. However, if you are reading, it must have, or maybe I just got too mad at it to care anymore. So if it is really messed up tell me and I will drive myself mad with it again.... It's not writer's block, it's just a bizarre subject. I do not know how to talk about a fist-fight...[I kick people with my wide variety of hiking boots] I must say though, this did come out very different than I intended.

PG/PG13 for language and extreme violence [muahahahahahahahaha, no one insults a Malfoy and comes out alive...except Harry maybe, but we don't need to know that] 

Dedication: My, have I taken to dedicating fics to people. This one is for all you Lucius fans out there [because you are so few], and for Fang a.k.a. Lauren just because she thinks that I have three-inch-high Snapes in the walls of my house. [Don't ask, personal joke]

In All Humanity

By PikaCheeka

"Paper..." Father flicked out his wrist and dropped a knut into the old witch's hand.

She smiled the smile that my father gets from every female of every age and quickly pulled out a copy of 'the Daily Prophet' from the bag at her side.

He snatched it away from her with a scowl and turned away abruptly, his robes swishing. It was Sunday, therefore he had his Sunday robes on. Pity nobody ever notices those, then they would stop calling us Goth, which both of us hate but neither of us can stop.

"Damn..." he muttered after a moment. 

"What?" I jumped up, dead set on learning some new nasty thing that was going on. I could return to school and boast about them.

"A gang of people escaped from St. Mungo's. They were thought to be Death eaters, then Voldemort learned they were mudbloods who used spells and murders to make them appear purebloods. He cast them out and left them for the Ministry to deal with. But Fudge [damn him] put all of them in St. Mungo's and all the purebloods in Azkaban. Said that they were the ones who needed help, under a spell, not us."

"How did you get away?" I asked again. He would never tell me. And there was no reason to now, he was mad. He had sworn twice in seconds.

"I'm smart. I can lie and keep a straight face. I can lay curses without a wand. I can murder and look innocent." 

Well, that was a bit more than what he normally told me, at least.

"Come on..." he muttered. "We have stuff to pick up at Knockturn..."

In a week school would start. I did have a wand, but I broke it, so I needed a new one. Anyway, the other one I had wasn't made for me. It had been made for Father. 

My first year, and he wanted to get me a wand from some store down Knockturn Alley instead of Ollivanders. He said that Dumbledore nor any other teacher would ever know unless I killed them with it. But then...what would it matter? 

What can a dead man tell? Seriously?

"Good day Mr. Malfoy..." the girl mumbled behind the counter. She was probably a recent graduate from Hogwarts, seeing as she still had a prefect badge attached to her robes. Too proud to remove it, even in the job she had. This was the wand shop, the wand shop that had every core a part of a dragon, manticore, or hurrock. All savage creatures. All make savage wands.

A sudden rumbling occurred behind me and I pivoted, suddenly afraid of the insane Death Eaters running loose. What could be worse than an insane, muggle-born Death Eater?

It was a baby dragon. I couldn't tell which kind yet. But I could tell it was about to belch out a flame. I jumped back and bolted to father, who was leaning against the counter, waiting for the girl to notice he wanted service.

"Hogwarts?" she suddenly shouted, startled at my sudden move.

Father nodded lazily.

"Isn't he a bit...young?"

"Nine."

"Ah...another two years then?"

"I said he was going to Hogwarts this year." He snapped.

"But..."

"He's going to be ten in a few days. Now shut up and find him a wand."

She shut up, although I could tell she wanted to argue more. I was already starting a year early and the fact that I was starting three days into my tenth year of life, I was basically starting two years early. But nobody had to know that except father, Dumbledore and I. I was sick for the first five or six years of my life anyway, so I had an excuse for my small size.

"Have you heard about those insane mudbloods?" the redheaded girl asked as she pulled out a large box.

Father nodded again.

"Aye...I wonder what will happen to them?"

He laughed ominously.

"Try this...seven inches...swishy, redwood, manticore heartstring."

Father scowled. "He's a Malfoy. He does not need a tiny wand made for charmwork."

"Just let him try it..." she tossed it to me. I caught it, avoiding my father's gaze. It turned a nasty red and I suddenly felt something bite my hand. I yelped again and jumped back, dropping it.

She laughed. "Manticore wands burn the wrong people...I guess you were right Lucius..."

"Master Malfoy. Sir Malfoy. Whatever, just not Lucius. I do not even know you." He snapped. He was in a bad mood. That paper turned him grouchy.

"Ok, ok...here...ten and a half inches, sturdy, yew, dragon heartstring. The wood of Voldemort's, the heart of his namesake, and the length of Merlin's..."

I walked over, encouraged by the faint smirk on Father's face, and picked it up. It didn't burn. Not me anyway, but the end did turn red and spit out a small flame.

"Hey...shouldn't he already have a wand?" she asked suddenly.

"I broke my old one..." I muttered.

"How?"

"We do not need to go into that matter now, do we?" Father growled. I nodded. I had broken it when he had taught me the Killing Curse. I had finally learned how to use it, but it had imploded with power for I was too young to use it. Besides, father got in trouble with the Ministry for letting me have one so young. This one would hopefully withstand more. And if it didn't and I was in the middle of a deadly battle? Father had expertly placed the remains of my old one in my dagger. I could use that if desperate, but it had the tendency to bleed. Bleed power.

"O...OK then..." she sighed and threw up her hands before picking up the young dragon and retreating to the back of the room.

"Bloody prying into our lives..." he muttered darkly after a moment. 

"_Is there a Lucius Malfoy in Knockturn Alley?_" a strange voice suddenly crackled over by the fire. We both jumped. It was the simple wizard loudspeaker type thing of course. But to hear my father's name was just wrong...

"_Lucius Malfoy, please report to the back entrance of the Alley, thank you..._" It trailed off there. Father paled more. Now he was stark white. He was also grinding his nastily sharp teeth together, a very bad sign.

"Damn, what did I do now?" he muttered after a moment.

Third swear.

"I dunno...hurt anyone today?" I asked casually. It was a family joke. Every day when he came home from work, mother would ask him that because he was so prone to knocking Arthur Weasley upside the head that it was a shock they hadn't fired him yet.

"No." He snapped, tapping his wand against the counter. It was suddenly silent, and the tapping began to echo. It was a wretched sound, and I was tempted to snatch it from his hands. I didn't though, for fear of what he might do.

After a minute or two of the never-ending clacking of wood against wood, he stopped. "Come on, I'm not leaving you here with that nosy girl...It's probably just some dumb money I left somewhere with my name on it."

I didn't question how or why he had his name on his money. Something told me he himself wanted to question it, but I kept my mouth shut and followed him out the door.

I noticed almost immediately something was up. I recognized the Death Eater hoods. "It must be a meeting...try to kill all the escapees..." I muttered, mainly to myself.

He nodded, though stiffly.

"Lucius Malfoy..." the nearest one breathed softly.

He started at that. 

"Don't you recognize me?" the person laughed, a male. He threw back his hood after a moment. He was thin, with slightly sunken eyes. Anxious blue eyes. His hair was brown, or maybe black, it was hard to tell. Other than that, he had an extremely hard face, one that had suffered great torment as well as given it.

Father crossed his arms suddenly and turned his head away and downward with a snort of disgust. "_You_. I never knew you were this dumb, Traycious."

What a strange name.

"O, I'm the dumb one. I've escaped an insane asylum, and what have you escaped?" It could only be one of those muggle born death eaters.

"The law." Father snapped. His eyes were closed and he was barely breathing, but he has the tendency to scarcely breathe.

The man sighed and looked back at the small group behind him. Father, however, seemed very unconcerned. But then again, there was no reason for them to hurt us. It was the muggles who had to worry, for I've heard that these ones were still out to get them.

"Would you care to join us in a rampage? One where hundreds of muggles of London will die?" Traycious asked.

"No." Father snapped, raising his head again.

"And why-ever not?" the man said mockingly.

"You know exactly why. You betrayed us, the whole lot of us purebloods. You even betrayed Voldemort, just because you wanted power."

"True, true, but what does it matter now?" he laughed.

"It does matter, damn it!" Father snapped. "Of course it matters! You handed half of us in! If I can recall, you're even the one who told the Ministry about me!"

I cringed and backed up.

"You purebloods don't understand..." he grinned.

"More like you mudbloods don't!" Father spat. 

There was a sudden flash of metal. I, horrified, jumped back against the wall while father stood there, smiling darkly. I didn't know why he was either. For his entire forearm had been laid open by the strange man's dagger. He looked down at his own blood for a moment, then slowly tilted his arm, allowing the crimson liquid to drip to the stone below. He quickly slid his other hand down his injured arm and wiped the blood off. I winced, shuddering. But the cut was gone. He could use magic without a wand.

Traycious growled. "You think it was hard for you? We are the ones who had to kill our families, brainwash others, and get new names to be Death Eaters! You had to do nothing but be cruel. We had to be more than cruel, we had to be heartless."

"Yes, heartless to your own master as well as your families."

"I wouldn't be talking Lucius. If I've heard correctly, you stabbed your own father to death and watched him die."

"Yes, after seventeen years of being beaten and having my own mother and pet killed." Father's eyes were narrowing, turning black.

"And I also heard that you cried...Don't you have _any_ pride in your name?" He had a disgustingly mocking voice. It didn't fit him in the least.

Father looked away. I had never heard that before, and I forcefully pretended I never had.

Traycious mistook my father's guilty look for a one of boredom and he changed the subject. "Hey...didn't you say it was we who turned you purebloods in? I remember it the other way around. We were as loyal as anyone, but you purebloods wanted all the pride for yourselves and informed Voldemort of our treachery."

"_One_ person did. Then the whole lot of you told on the rest of us."

"Yes, but we didn't have a choice, did we? I mean, it was turn you in and get to go to an insane asylum, or keep quiet and be handed over to the dementors."

Father growled. "Pride do you not have?"

"I believe pride is what you have too much of, you arrogant bastard." Traycious smirked.

"What is it now? Are you out to kill all of us purebloods who escaped imprisonment?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I seriously doubt the latter."

"I remember a time when you pretended you were a pureblood. You wished you were one. Then someone found out you weren't, and told Voldemort of your treachery. And now you are suddenly full of hatred against us all?"

"I believe you feel hatred for all muggleborns."

Father didn't answer for a moment. I hated to admit it, but Traycious did have a point. "I feel hatred for them, yes." He said finally. "But for several reasons. For one thing, we were here first, protecting the muggles from harm. That has gone way back, thousands of years. Somehow muggle-borns started to appear. They came to hog all the glory for themselves, telling us we were the ones in the wrong. Telling us that we should stick to our own territory. About a thousand years back, we backed off, and left you muggleborns to care for what was yours. And they failed, they came crawling back. Half of them betrayed us later, during the times of the witch burnings. Although a great many survived, thousands died as well. Now tell me, who is the betrayer, and who is not?" I stood puzzled for a time after his speech. I had never heard any of that before.

Traycious looked confused as well. I could tell he was unsure of how to respond. Most likely he had not understood the way Father spoke, using the ancestors as himself. 

"Must the arrogant always be prejudice?" Father added as an afterthought.

"When it comes to you, I believe so!" Traycious spat suddenly, his eyes flashing the color of his blade. 

Father didn't answer and pulled out his own knife. He sighed and turned toward me. "get out of here...there's bound to be bloodshed." There was a maniacal glint in his eye I had never seen before upon the mention of blood. 

I froze, unable to move. Pointing his wand at me and sighed, he muttered a single word. "Apparatus."

Without thinking, I whipped out my own wand and shouted the counter-curse. It worked, although I didn't know what I was doing. Father glared at me, swearing under his breath until Traycious started laughing. "Ever see a man die, kid?"

I nodded truthfully and he abruptly stopped his laughter. His gaze flickered toward Father nervously. "He...has?"

"What's it to you, _mudblood_?" He looked triumphant now, as if he had already won something over the man. As he said that he shoved be back against the wall. I stayed there, sliding down slightly. I didn't know why they were using knives and not wands. It took me a whole of two minutes to realize that Traycious did not have a wand, the Ministry must have taken it away when he was sent to the asylum.

"Give him your wand." Traycious said after his comrades stepped back several paces. It was growing into a dogfight, where passer-bys stop and watch two creatures tear at each other. "I do not have one, therefore, the fact that you have one makes us unbalanced."

Father shrugged and tossed his wand behind him, as if it were nothing more than a stick. I caught it reluctantly, not wanting him to be without it. If he died here, I would have to live with house elves for the rest of my life.

Now two seconds later there was already blood on the ground. I didn't dare look to see whose. I'm like that, a pitiful son. I crouched in the corner, my eyes closed and buried my face in my hands, not wanting to see anyone die. I normally wouldn't care, but this fight involved my father and an insane mudblood.

After a full minute, I dared a glance. It was impossible to tell who was winning, both were injured. Traycious's right shoulder, which was good on my father's part, for it forced him to use his left hand. Father? I couldn't tell how bad he was hurt. I could see the beginning of a gash across his forehead, bleeding profusely, but he had his left hand across it, so I couldn't see the rest. He could fix it if he was allowed the time and concentration, if. That was the key word. I turned away again, ashamed that I was unable to make myself watch, but at the same time glad that I did not have to.

I concentrated on watching a small spider crawl up the wall. The temptation to kill it was overpowering, but I resisted. If I did end it's life, I would have nothing else to watch...

Suddenly, something lashed out at me from behind. I whirled around, beginning to panic. It was one of the mudbloods. A woman who slightly resembled a boy I knew named Seamus Finnagin, a half-blood. Worthless.

She smiled at me mockingly. "So, you're Narcissa's child? You're kind of scrawny, aren't you?"

I growled, unsure of what to do. She was obviously one of mother's friends, or enemies from school.

"Pity she'll be a widow soon...Lucius has his face laid open from one ear to the other..."

"Avada Kedavra!" I cried suddenly, aiming both the wands at her. 

She looked startled, then fell.

_I had killed her._

I stared at her for a moment, all kinds of horrible thoughts running through my mind. Was I too young to be thrown into Azkaban? I heard a sudden cry of pain from the direction of the Death Eaters and turned in that direction. I blinked furiously for a moment. One of them, not Traycious, was lying on the ground, a river of red seeping from his robes. Another one dead.

Traycious suddenly lunged at my father with a javelin. I had no idea where that came from. I cringed visibly. A second later, Father collapsed to the ground, choking on his own blood. Traycious had stabbed the back of the javelin into his side. I cried out loudly, feeling his own pain somehow.

Something suddenly smashed into the back of my head and I crumpled over. I felt blood. I was thrown backward against the wall. It was another girl. They seemed to be out to get me. She was brandishing a staff. 

That is, she was. The next second Father was. She looked sick for a moment. "Lucius..." she cooed after a moment. "Remember me? I liked you back then..."

"Yes, and I like you now..." Father smirked. I gasped.

"I like your _blood_." 

Before she had the chance to work out what he had said, he lunged at her and grabbed for her neck, sinking his teeth deep into it. I starred, frozen, for a moment. Then looked away, deciding forcefully I was seeing things. He just couldn't be a vampire.

"Crucio!" my father yelled suddenly. I jumped up, momentarily forgetting about the bite.

Traycious was already a crumpled heap writhing on the ground. "I said no wands..." he finally gasped.

"I didn't use one." Father said calmly, despite the fact that he was trembling violently.

Why hadn't he used his strength to heal himself, or at least kill Traycious? 

Father smiled mockingly and kneeled on the stone. It was probably so he would not collapse, but he pretended it was to irritate Traycious. He was tossing his dagger from one hand to the other slowly. "I'm surprised at Voldemort. He should have seen through you in an instant, such a pathetic duel opponent. How did you ever survive the ordeal?"

I had never known there was an ordeal. I didn't much like the thought of it. What did they make you do, fight until you dropped, then kill a hundred people? I had heard that one man killed thirteen people at once, but that was the most that had ever died to one curse...

"You think you're so great just because you are a pureblood. You're just too damn arrogant to realize the truth. I bet the only reason as to why you're so good with a knife is that you killed hundreds of us already..." Traycious gasped.

Father shrugged. I noticed that his blood was a very deep red, unnatural. And sickeningly so.

Traycious then muttered something I could not hear. Father swore loudly and brandished his dagger.

He brought it downward sharply and I looked away in sudden panic. But nothing could prevent me from seeing the stones beneath my feet flood over with crimson blood. I had never known a man had so much. He was ten feet away, and yet, it was like he was right here...

I fainted.

I suppose I did not really faint, for I came to in seconds. I had collapsed in the blood, and was now covered in it as if it were my own. I felt sick. I remembered the lady I had killed. I remembered the man that Father had killed.

Father. Where was he?

I rolled over onto my back and sat up. He was still there, muttering to himself and staring at the body.

I stood up, reaching for the wall as I did. The other Death Eaters had vanished, leaving us alone. Alone with our own arrogant savageness. What we had done was more than a fight for survival. All they had done was insult our name.

Father suddenly stood up, shaking his head violently for a moment before sheathing his knife. He had already half healed his cut, but not entirely. He turned to me and nodded. I came, though sulkily.

He was already standing straight, as if proud of what he had done. He probably was proud, he probably saw no wrong in killing someone for insulting him. But I did.

I recognized what they were talking about.

"Father? Are all people as selfish, arrogant, and savage as us?" I asked him after a moment.

Pity I asked him. Pity I didn't look at him first.

He was crying.

Crying for the humanity we nor any other human had.


End file.
